Adam Chen | Mission

Where It Started

When I came out at 20, I was excited to finally just be myself — until I realised how other people saw me.

“No fats, no fems, no Asians” hit me before I even had a chance to speak.

That does something to you. It builds this idea that Asian guys sit at the bottom of the gay food chain. And it made me feel like I had to lower my standards just to get noticed.

I never saw anyone who looked like me having normal, intimate sex with age-appropriate, equally hot guys of different races. No weird power dynamics. No fetishising. No baggage. Just two people connecting.

And in porn, that story repeats — Asian men are often silent, submissive, or entirely absent.

I don’t think most people are doing this on purpose. It’s just a leftover story we’ve all been handed. I’m not here to lecture anyone. But I do think this: a lot of guys don’t consider Asian men simply because they’ve never seen us presented as equals.

What the Research says

The numbers don’t lie. Study after study shows the same pattern: Asian men are consistently ranked lowest in desirability across queer spaces.

A 2015 study by Callander et al. found that over 60% of gay and bisexual men in Australia reported racial preferences on dating apps — with Asian men rated lowest in desirability.
Read the full study →
Research by Jordens & Griffiths (2022) shows that queer desire follows a clear racial order: lighter and whiter bodies are ranked highest, while Asian and darker-skinned men are consistently ranked lowest.
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Chan (2021) found that racialised rejection on dating apps leads to lower self-esteem, increased minority stress, and reduced belonging among queer men of colour.
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Phua & Kaufman (2003) analysed thousands of personal ads and found that Asian men were the least contacted group by every demographic category.
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Plummer (2007) conducted one of the most in-depth examinations of sexual racism. Men of colour reported exclusion in apps, clubs, porn, hookups, and relationships, showing that racialised desire is widespread, harmful, and structurally embedded, not a series of isolated personal “preferences.”
Read the full study →

In short: the stories we tell about who’s desirable don’t start with us — but they can end with us.

Racism or Preference?

Imagine you’re 20, newly out, trying to understand the scene. You walk up to an ice cream stand. The twenty people before you all choose vanilla or strawberry. Not one person even looks at the chocolate.

When it’s your turn, you notice the chocolate tub is untouched while the others are nearly empty. You look around — all the cool, confident guys are holding vanilla or strawberry. The only people eating chocolate are a couple of awkward looking tourists standing off to the side.

So honestly: in that moment, which flavour are you going to pick?

I’m not saying you should choose chocolate. What I am saying is that desire is shaped by what we see around us. Humans copy the group. If no one you admire is eating chocolate, you’re much less likely to try it yourself — especially when you’re young and desperate to fit in.

That’s why representation matters. It’s not about forcing chocolate on anyone. It’s about showing that the cool kids eat chocolate too.

Power

True power doesn’t shout.
It just looks like control and ease.

Intimacy

I only do real connection. Because nothing’s more radical than authenticity.

Representation

I don’t just talk about it — I live it.
Being seen, face and all, is the statement.

I make work where Asian men lead the story.

I’m not here to “fix” porn — I’m here to expand what it can be.

In Western gay porn, try finding an Asian top with a white, black, latino, or european bottom who’s just as hot. It's once in a blue moon - because the industry never bothered to make it.

Most interracial scenes lean into the same tired formula: the Asian guy paired with someone older, fatter, or just plain less attractive - as if that’s “our level” and we should be grateful just to be picked. I’m not buying that.

I’m here to flip that dynamic and show Asian men as the ones with gravity — not the consolation prize.

My scenes are about authentic intimate connection — just the way I do in real life. Not forced, no props and clichés, just the kind that comes naturally when I am driving the moment.

Because when you watch an Asian man take charge, take space, take pleasure — it hits different. It resets the frame.

Every frame is an act of rewriting
the visual language of desire.

Desire is culture in motion.

Who we find attractive is never just personal — it’s learned, repeated, and reinforced.

I’m interested in showing what happens when we unlearn it. When the camera turns toward someone it used to overlook — and stays there.

Who we’re taught to want — and who we’re taught to overlook — doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s learned. It’s repeated. And most of the time, it goes unquestioned.

I’m interested in what happens when you question it. When you flip the script just enough to see something real.

My work isn’t activism. It’s not a lecture.
It’s an invitation to see Asian men the way we see ourselves — powerful, desired, and undeniably present.

If that changes the way someone looks at us — or at themselves — then the work has already done its job.

Explore the Work

Mission